The freighter rumbled through the void.
Lian woke to darkness and pain.
The cargo crate was tight—cold metal walls, stacked high with sealed containers of raw Qi crystals. The air smelled of dust and faint ozone from the glowing rocks inside.
He lay curled on the hard floor, body a map of hurt. The new scars from plasma burns throbbed hot—shoulder black and blistered, side raw and weeping, leg stiff like dried leather. Broken fingers swelled. Ribs ached with every shallow breath. Blood crusted his face, his clothes stiff with it.
He didn't move at first.
Just breathed.
In.
Out.
Pain sharpened everything.
Memories came like knives.
Harlan's scream. The claws ripping his heart. Empty eye sockets staring back. The old man's white machine gaze. The shadow's red eyes.
Regret flooded him.
Why didn't I fight harder? Why couldn't I move? I should have saved him. Uncle… I failed you.
Pain twisted deeper—not just the wounds, but the hole in his chest where family used to be. The lively boy who joked and dreamed—he was dead too. Buried with Harlan under the dunes.
Then revenge burned in.
The syndicate. Metal Jaw. The guards who beat him. The old man and his monster. I'll find you. I'll tear out your hearts. I'll make you watch.
Greed followed.
Power. I need more. Enough to crush them. Enough to never lose again. Enough to burn the galaxy if I have to.
His hand touched a container wall by accident. Cool glass. Inside, Qi crystals pulsed soft blue light—raw energy mined from Khar-9's depths. Forbidden to touch without gear. Deadly in high doses.
But Lian didn't care.
He pressed his palm flat against it.
Something stirred inside him.
A pull.
Like hunger.
The crystals hummed louder.
Blue light leaked through the glass, into his skin.
Warm at first.
Then hot.
Qi flowed.
Into his veins. His bones. His broken body.
He gasped.
It hurt—worse than the burns. Like fire running through empty pipes.
But it healed too.
Scars cooled. Flesh knit slow. Bones shifted, mending cracks.
He pushed harder.
The container cracked.
Crystals spilled out—hundreds of small glowing rocks.
They rolled toward him.
Touched his skin.
And melted in.
Absorbed.
The crate filled with light.
Lian sat up, eyes wide.
The void in his blue gaze cracked a little. A spark grew—cold blue flame.
More memories flashed.
Harlan's stories. "Qi is the universe's blood, boy. It flows in everything. But only the strong can drink it deep."
A hidden thing woke in Lian's blood.
The Star Forge Core—shattered artifact from his parents, buried in his veins since birth. It hummed now. Activated by the raw Qi.
Circuits formed.
Meridians opened—energy channels long dormant.
First one. Then two.
Pain peaked.
He screamed silent—teeth clenched.
Revenge fueled it.
Pain pushed it.
Regret sharpened it.
Greed drank it all.
The crystals vanished—sucked dry into his body.
The container emptied. Glass walls dimmed, cracked, crumbled to dust.
Lian breathed deep.
No more hurt.
Wounds gone. Scars stayed—pale lines on his skin, reminders.
But inside—power.
First Layer Foundation Realm.
Body forged anew. Skin tougher. Muscles denser. Senses sharp—he heard the ship's engines hum clear, felt the Qi in the air like static.
He flexed his hand.
A faint blue glow traced his veins.
Not strong yet.
But starting.
The freighter shook—landing sequence.
A voice crackled over speakers. "Docking at Nova Prime Station. Cargo unload in ten."
Lian stood.
The void in his eyes held the spark now.
Hidden.
Waiting.
He slipped out of the crate as doors opened.
Into the crowd of a massive space station.
Free.
Hungry for more.
The academy waited somewhere out there.
So did his enemies.
He would find both.